Potions and Changes
by Mrs.HG2016
Summary: She was gone for over a year, and no one noticed. How could they not have found her by now? Was no one looking? How much did people change since the war's end? Not dwelling on it any longer, Hermione Granger did what she had to do to escape, herself. It was now or never. Now, she just had to find the one person she knew she could trust, no matter how long it had been. Rated
1. Chapter One

**Summary:**

She was gone for over a year, and no one noticed. How could they not have found her by now? Was no one looking? How much did people change since the war's end? Not dwelling on it any longer, Hermione Granger did what she had to do to escape, herself. It was now or never. Now, she just had to find the one person she knew she could trust, no matter how long it had been.

Rated M for future chapters. Hermione/Snape pairing. Category Romance.

Disclaimer:

I do not own, nor claim ownership to any characters, spells, potions, or anything related to the likings of the Harry Potter series. All ownership goes to J.K. Rowling who is, by far, the most amazing writer in the world and an honest inspiration. This story is also rated M for future chapters: sexual conduct, wording, and events.

Chapter One:

She sat there. Waiting. She was not sure how exactly she got there, but she was happy she did! The dark alley, the dark corner, the cold wind against her face, surprisingly felt safer than anything else she had witnessed in a long time. Catching her breath after the excruciating escape she managed, she looked around. She looked up to the entrance of the alley way, no one. Looking down the lane, she witnessed the far away fading figure walking in the opposite direction of her position. With great effort she leaned into the building's corner and allowed her body to slide down the wall until she hit the ground with a very painful bump.

Now the easy part, to wait! She had chosen this alleyway, this corner, very meticulously. She remembered…how long ago was it? 3 months? A year? Longer? She couldn't remember, but she knew from the last visit to Knockturn Alley that he was a frequent visitor. She knew it was a risk, but it was a risk she had to take. He was her best bet. Sad, but very true.

Hermione Granger had to rest her fate and health in the hands of the one man who everyone had opinions about…

It had been a week and she barely moved. Dozing in and out of sleep, eating only when a scrap of food blew down the alley way, learning how to cope with the sudden gusts of wind that were prevailing. She had paid attention to every straggler who passed down the alley, three men, and one woman so far. Had it been that long since she had last strolled these streets? Was this a lost cause?

More time had passed. She was losing track of time and days. She could not tell if it was early morning, or just evening anymore. All she knew was that the alley way as in the darker stages of the day. She was in and out of consciousness. It had easily been three days since her last scrap of food, which happened to be half a banana and some sort of tossed aside sandwich, she hoped. When had it come to this?

About to give up, she stretched her aching body. She had no idea when the last time she moved was. She had gotten so used to hiding in her darkened corner, she became numb to the tingly feelings in her extremities. She dared to lay her legs out, allowing just the tip of her bare toes to lay out in the light. Actually, light was the wrong word for it. Considering the exclusivity of the alley way she chose, there were only two forms of colors, black, and grey.

Stretching her legs proved to be a bad idea. She knew no one would be showing up, that was not the problem. The problem was her body's reaction to the sudden movement. Having so little to eat…when did she last have something to drink? Her adrenaline suddenly dropped. Fighting off consciousness, she willed her body to stay just a little longer. She couldn't quit now. She had proven her will by escaping, running away, fighting, clawing, forcing her way to hope. She had eaten and drank things no human should ever had to suffer through. She slept on things, in things, slept hoping it was her last night and morning would not come again. She had FINALLY made it to today, here, freedom. She could not give in now.

She knew he would be here. He had to be. Right? Yes, he would definitely be here. Or maybe he changed his ways? Maybe he wasn't even in Britain any longer. People had changed since the war, obviously. Maybe he finally changed? These were all things she had never thought of. Panic began to kick in. She began to breathe heavily and in odd increments. She was beginning to hyperventilate. She was getting dizzy, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't see, she couldn't move. It was over! She had done it all for nothing!

Suddenly, a rough shuffling came across her ears. It was barely even a sound actually. No one else would have heard it, would have even knew it had happened, but she knew differently. She had become so accustomed to listening for every slight change of environment, it was the only way she had survived until now.

Her survival instincts kicking in she calmed her breathing. Using the last of her sensibility she forced her body to move, to hide back into the shadow of the corner. She definitely heard footsteps, and they were most definitely coming her way. Waiting until the footsteps were almost on top of her, she held her breathe. Afraid of how well trained the dark wizard's senses were. After all, no right wizard would dare to travel down this alley, even if their life depended on it…Did that mean she wasn't right any longer?

Caught in her musings she did not realize the person was right next to her until she saw his figure directly in front of her. She took in the full black robes, the skilled, yet gentle swish of the cloak. It was most definitely a wizard. Taking in the height, sulkiness, and apparent quietness, she was sure it was him. Unsure if it was her lack of mind, or the unconsciousness that was threatening to take her, but she was for sure definite it was him. Using what she was sure was her last breath she used all strength that she could muster to form a pathetic whisper.

"Severus,"

The wizard stopped dead in his tracks. All in the same movement he stopped walking, turned around, wand out, directed exactly at the level of her mouth. A look contorted across the wizard's face. As light shown in her face, blinding her since she could not block the sudden light she simply closed her eyes.

It was happening. She was going to pass out for sure. She normally had welcomed these moments, but not now. She HAD to ensure it was him. She HAD to save herself. One last ditch effort she huffed, "Severus. Please!"

Everything faded. Blackness enveloped her. Her body had given way. She slipped into unconsciousness.

He was walking down the alley way, sure no one had noticed his entrance. He had to make quick work of this. He had given up his ways, wiped his slate clean, even if the others had not believed him. He had come so far to becoming a new man, he just needed this last trip to ensure the potions until he was fully able to brew them all himself. He had come so close. One last trip, he promised himself.

It had been months since he had traveled down this path. He was happy to say he never would have to come this way again. Preparing his speech for a quick departure from the shop in his head, he heard it. Using the trained reflexes of a man who truly had been through it all, he knew what it was.

To the untrained ear it would have sounded like a simple whistle in the wind. He knew better though. It was most definitely a whisper. If you could even call it that. It was as if the wind was calling out to him. He could not decipher if it was a woman, a man, a ghost even. The sound of his name, however it was said, was in fact, said.

He turned at once, pulling his wand out in the direction of his name. At once realizing it was a blackened corner, he immediately set a silent lumos out of his wand. Through all the years of training, hiding. All the years of double crossing, secrets, missions and pain, he was NEVER prepared for what he saw next.

The shape in front of him was a soulfully terrifying sight. It was a woman. He thought, at least. He saw more slashes than he did skin. More dirt and blood than he did human color. He took in the beaten and sad shape in front of him, allowing a momentary glance across the human's entire body. From the dirt caked, or was that blood, hair, to the ragged, torn piece of clothing she wore, to the broken, battered, emaciated legs, it was absolutely a woman.

"Severus, Please!" With that, he looked back into the face of the speaker. It was then he saw it. The honey brown eyes, the rounded shaped face, the frazzled hair. He was in fact staring into the face of the once known Gryffindor Princess, Hermione Granger.

 **Author's Note:**

I hope you enjoyed it. This is my very first shot at a fanfic. I created it because I have been an avid reader of Harry Potter Fanfiction for years, and I just could not find the Snape I liked. He was either too frilly, gave in too easily, changed too much, or the story line just went too quickly. Please take it easy on me, being a first time writer. All responses are requested! There is PLENTY more where this came from.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two:

Taking in the scene before him he caught his breath. What had happened to her? Was that really her? Why was she here? Did she really just ask him for help? Snapping back out of his mind he saw her head slump. "Oh crap," he thought.

Looking around to ensure they were alone for sure, since he once thought he was alone today, he stepped to her. Crouching down he saw the barest of chest movements. She was alive, that was good!

He took in her form. He was right the first impression he took of her. She was, without a doubt, more scar and cut than she was Hermione. He looked down to her knee caps that seemed too large for the skinny legs that held them in. She was sitting in the smallest fetal position. All curve and "fat" had gone from her form. Her face, that was slumped back against the wall behind her proved to be bony and sunken in, despite the natural roundness of her face.

Not knowing any answer other than the one he came up with, he dubbed she definitely needed help. Taking in the severity of her multiple conditions, he knew he had to act quickly. Diagnosing her most obvious issues he concluded he had all the potions needed to assist her, but not with him. He had to take her to his house. He would much rather have taken her to the castle, but it was still midday.

He knew naught the reason why she was hiding, or why she chose him, but one thing was obvious. Someone had done this to her and she could not be found by them. Not knowing who this person was, he decided taking the chance of apparating them to the castle during the daylight hours was not a risk necessary, even if it was the beginning of summer term and no one would be around other than the oaf of a groundskeeper and his newlywed giantess who were expanding his tiny cottage to allow for a bigger and much needed bed, and the headmistress herself.

Not chancing to take any longer, he gathered her limp form into his arms, which was much easier than it should have been due to her apparent emaciation, and disapparated on the spot.

He had wards on his property protecting anyone from joining him through apparition, no matter who's magical make up it was. Keeping this in mind, and completely unwilling to change that fact, he pooped into a spot just outside of his mile-wide wards. Gently placing her on the grassy floor of the meadow he stepped over the invisible line of his protection spells.

Once he crossed he sent the required demands for his wards to allow the specific magical properties of Hermione's magical essence by holding the only personal possession he had of her, a piece of her hair. Once he felt his wards respond with the slightest of tingles, he quickly gathered up the barely breathing girl and crossed onto his property.

Not allowing the extra time it would have taken him to trek the mile distance to his home, he apparated directly in his bedroom. He chose this spot due to its largeness compared to the other sizes of the rooms of his house, as well as the short distance it would be to his potions supplies if he needed to grab them himself had his magic been occupied.

Placing her down on top of his bed spread he gently laid her head on his pillow and forced her much cramped body to lay flat. When he did this, he was finally able to see the great extent of Mrs. Granger's condition.

He had assumed she was emaciated, but looking at her now, he was mystified as to how she was even alive. She had no essence to her. She looked dangerously close to the pictures he had seen of the muggle Holocaust in his younger years of schooling prior to his Hogwarts letter. Looking around her apparent skinniness, he took in the gravity of her wounds. She had major gashes on almost every part of her body that was showing. Judging by the amount of bruises, cuts, and scars across her body, he was positive they continued under the pathetic amount of rags she wore as "clothing."

Honestly, he had seen house elves wear more than what she had covering her tall figure. The rags he was sure once were the color white were now a disgusting color of brown, green, and black. He was sure trolls and giants had cleaner habits than what she was obviously allotted.

Taking his eyes off her "clothing" and back to her face he saw that she was still heavily unconscious. She was nowhere close to coming to, he knew for certainty. Taking no more time wasted, he began his work.

Once being right hand man to the greatest wizard of all time, Professor Dumbledore, he had utilized many diagnostic spells and healer quality motions. Not even taking the time to diagnose her at this moment, he quickly went to work on healing what he could plainly see.

He closed the open gashes with simple flicks and swishes of his wand. Taking in her emaciated state and lack of color, he accioed a blood replenishing potion and poured it down the limp girl's throat. He also gave her the wizard equivalent of antibiotic potion for the infections he was sure she carried due to the amount of cuts and slashes on her body.

After a few more spells and potions, including a very strong skele-grow for good measure, he took a breath. Stepping back to wipe the sweat that had appeared on his forehead. He could not remember how long it had been since he had to battle time to save someone.

Allowing his mind to wander down his own path of reflection, he wandered into his kitchen. Still feeling the heat from the strenuous acts he just finished, he took off his wizarding cloak and robes. Continuing to cool his body by rolling up his long sleeved, black, button up to just past his elbows. He always wore his muggle clothes underneath his wizarding outfits. He learned this lesson back in Mrs. Granger's first year no thanks to a grouchy three headed dog with a knack for speed. He decided then it would always be smart to wear a second layer of clothing, with the hopes of salvaging more skin than that day.

Thinking of the girl in his bed he turned and looked directly into his bedroom, laying eyes on the unconscious girl. The way his house was laid out, he had no problem keeping an eye on the woman from any spot, other than the bathroom and maybe his library. Suddenly, something didn't look right.

Walking with intent, yet not quite speed, he crossed the floor into his bedroom easily. Something had changed, and quickly. Cursing at himself for not thinking of doing the diagnostics prior to walking away, he quickly ran some spells over her almost lifeless body. Taking in her state, he did a pain indicator spell first. She had her head pulled back, digging into his pillow, allowing her chin to jot up straight. Her body was board like and completely stiff. Thanks to the bright red indicator at the tip of his wand, he knew what his eyes saw to be truth, Mrs. Granger was in severe pain.

Quickly producing a numbing potion, he attempted to force her mouth open. Unable to unlock her jaw, he huffed and almost threw the bottle onto his bedside table. Giving up and doing a quick, yet less effective numbing spell he got the reaction he wanted. Her body relaxed a bit, allowing her head to settle naturally, and he was able to get her mouth open enough to pour the initially intended potion down her throat.

She relaxed fully after that one, looking almost peaceful. He was confused though. What had caused her to change so quickly? He had replenished her blood, healed her wounds to ensure there was no loss of blood, even given her antibiotics… what could be hurting her now?

Just then it hit him, shock. This was her mind's reaction to the quick changes in her body. Changes, though, he barely did anything. Thinking it through, he found a wound that was still healing itself. Knowing better than to expose himself to possible toxins, he took the tip of his wand and gently, but purposefully, pushed it through the hole in the wound.

Pulling out the smallest amount of blood, he examined it. Its color was oddly dark. Dark blood…Darkness in such an outer vein was not normal. Then he thought about it again, shock. Yes, her mind was clearly in shock, but what about her body? Calling himself a fool for allowing it to slip his mind he did a diagnostic spell hovering his wand just inches above her body. The color indication made him take a sharp breath and hold it.

Septic shock. Cursing himself again for being so foolish, he continued to hover his wand down her body. Her chest glowed a dangerous orange tone, while her stomach turned closer to red. Knowing that red was the highest possible, he was not expecting worse. The poor girl probably had infection in her stomach from whatever it was she had access to for food. Grazing his wand across her reproductive sections just to complete the diagnostic and what he saw made him step back.

Of all the years of horrid things, he had NEVER seen this. The glow was indeed red, but a dark purple red. The darkest shade he had ever seen. He never even knew it existed. Not only was the color enough to stop him in his tracks, but the strength of the glow made him squint his eyes and turn away. What had this girl been through?

It was obvious where majority of her septic was coming from. Putting it mildly, she wasn't suffering from septic shock. This poor girl WAS septic shock. You could have bottled her up and sold her as the damn thing. He could not wrap his mind around it.

Reminding himself of the importance of time, he jumped back to work and called three potions to his hand. Answering his silent demands immediately, the expert potions master quickly uncorked the mixtures and forced them down the throat of the poor girl. He also found himself tunneling through his memories looking for a spell that could assist the speed of their effectiveness.

Not wanting to mess up again, afraid of what else he would miss, he prepared himself for what he knew must be done. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he vanished the poor excuse for clothing in one simple thought. Looking down, he saw more gashes that needed his immediate attention.

Her breasts were so badly attacked he could barely consider them round. Wounds were evident, as well as some minor deformities. Not wanting to dwell along the girl's private body he went to work quickly, ensuring not to stare or physically touch at all. She had been through enough. Even if she did not know what he did, he could not live with himself knowing he took more advantage of someone who clearly had no choice in many matters. Finishing up the healing, even allowing her the small gift of reshaping the minor, yet painful looking deformity that had obviously taken place due to a layering of scaring around her left side of her chest.

He then settled to gaze very quickly below her navel. The sight was, again, something he was not prepared for. Although there were less open gashes, her amount of scaring across this section of privacy was at least trifold the amount of the remainder of her body. Not wanting to look at the sight before him any longer, he took to placing three simple spells and moved on. He chose to enchant her skin with the ability to replenish itself slightly, an inflammatory spell allowing her swelling to go down, and an additional pain killer spell before looking away for good.

He glanced over the girl's naked body just once more to ensure her wounds had finished closing up well enough. Finishing with a final diagnostic spell, he levitated the limp body before him and summoned up a basic sleeping gown for the girl to be covered in. With some difficulty, since he did not wish to touch the girl at all, he carefully and painstakingly slowly dressed the girl, and gently laid her back down on the bed.

Allowing himself to touch her just once to lay her head back down on the pillow a bit more naturally, ensuring not to pull her hair he noticed one thing he neglected to do. Although he cleansed the insides of her body and healed the obvious wounds, he never actually took into account the amazing amounts of filth and blood on the girl's skin. He was reminded of this fact when he touched her hair to lay her head more easily. Quickly shooting off scourgify a dozen times, as well as an additional cleansing spell or two, he finished his initial care for the young witch.

With that being said, he flopped down into a chair he transfigured out of an empty bedside table, he tossed his head back. The sweat and heat catching up to him again, he just gave up. Giving into exhaustion, rather than the hunger pains, he allowed himself a quick nap. He had done a lot for this young girl. Someone he never thought he'd assist, in ways he never thought he'd need to.

Not wishing to dwell too much, he propped his feet up on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the very weak girl on the opposite side of his king size bed, he allowed sleep to pull him away.


	3. Chapter Three

**Author's Note:**

This chapter is much longer than the last two. Almost doubled in size. It is majorly due to the trip down to memory lane. I hope it's not too much! Enjoy!

Chapter Three:

 _Severus lay there, limp and lifeless. He had already given up his last act to save Mr. Potter's life with his last tears. He was ready for death. He had given so much, taken so much. He had fought so long. He was finally ready._

 _Laying there just seconds away from death, he heard a slight bristling. He did not care. What else could happen to him? His love was already ripped from him, his life had already ended over and over again while he was still alive. Going through hell, torture, pain, and stress his entire life, he welcomed the last seconds, interrupted or not. Taking his last breath, he smiled internally at his last living thought._

 _His surroundings faded, yet instead of black, white, or even light, he was green. Nothing but green grass, yellow daffodils and white dandelion plants blossoming everywhere. A long, vast, beautiful meadow of overgrown weeds and grass going on for what seemed like forever. He found himself, or his eye view, running through this field. He knew this field._

 _He was a kid. He could hear the echo of a faint laugh behind his vision line. He knew that laugh too. He willed his head to turn, he needed to see the owner of that laugh. It was so beautiful, so young, so innocent. Instantly, hopefully, he knew the source._

 _Finally, his vision self slowed to a stop and flopped down into the grass, laying his back to the ground and his face to the sky. He could see the distant sight of tree branches sprawled atop him in the bright blue sky. He lay his head back and closed his eyes for one split second. This was long enough for the young, long haired, witch to lay next to him. His memory self felt a soft hand tangle her fingers through his, and he smiled. Opening his eyes, he turned his face to look into the beautiful, doe sized, green eyes of Lily Evans._

 _"_ _Sev, promise me we'll stay like this!" She asked so innocently, heartbreak on the verge of showing itself in her eyes._

 _His eleven-year-old self rolled over to lay on his side facing her, not allowing his hand to leave hers. He took a moment to think…He knew his answer, but he needed the best way to explain it. Hope in mind, and the courage of young love, he used his other hand to lay atop the patch of clean grass in between them. Concentrating hard, exciting the ground to do his bidding he raised his hand, to show a beautiful, blossoming, violet, lily. She looked at it with awe._

 _"_ _How are you so good with your magic?"_

 _Thinking even harder, debating how to say it, he decided to just go all in. Hugging his courage and hope he simply said, "you." Waiting a second to watch the comprehension in her eyes, he then continued. "You help me. I have never had a friend like you, Lil. You have been there since that summer I stumbled into you and your sister, right here, at this tree. I never had a reason to smile until you came along. I find that by thinking of you, I can practice and hone my magic much easier than when I just thought of it alone. I promise you, Lil, I will NEVER leave you. You will forever be my always."_

 _That was just the right answer. The young girl giggled a hearty sound and rolled up off the grass._

 _"_ _Hey, where you going?" Severus called._

 _The girl giggled again, yet looked back at him, urging him to follow. His younger self immediately jumped up and play chased the young girl in front of him. His present self knew he was finally going to see that beautiful smile once more. He knew where she was leading him. Everything he had done to make up for his lost time finally made sense. He was at ease. Then he felt something tugging at him. A pain? No, it was more like an annoyance in the back of his mind. He ignored it, desperately trying to catch up to the girl._

 _Then suddenly he felt a stronger tugging sensation, almost like someone was pulling on the back of his shirt. NO, he thought, LILY! He pulled as hard as he could, breaking into a full run to catch up to her. Finally, he could not ignore it any longer. It was a full blast of pain and sense flooding to the front of his mind._

 _…_ _. His vision of Lily disappeared just as quickly as it had come. He did not want to open his eyes. He knew he would not see that young, happy face again. His senses came to. He smelt blood, dirt, sweat, and what was that last scent? Parchment? He did not believe it. Next he heard something, a conversation maybe?_

 _At first it was just mumbled garbage. Then he could differentiate two voices. He may not have known their origin, yet he could tell they were male and female. They seemed to be having a disagreement because the talking had become louder. Or was it just that he was earning a better sense of his surroundings?_

 _"_ _RONALD WEASLY WILL YOU SHUT UP AND LET ME CONCENTRATE?"_

 _Nope, it was definitely a fight. Ronald Weasley… Ronald Weasley…Wait. No, it couldn't be. He begrudgingly opened his eyes and his heart fell to his feet. No. His world had come crashing back down. He was indeed, back to life. The insufferable know-it-all, Gryffindor was kneeling in front of him. She was rummaging through what looked to be a small clutch while the young red head paced quite a distance behind her. Neither of them became aware of his awakening._

 _Not wanting it to be real, he closed his eyes again and wished for death. He wished for Lily once more._

 _"_ _Come on 'Mione, I want to go see everyone!"_

 _"_ _Well then you go Ronald, I am busy."_

 _"_ _Doing what?" He asked exasperated._

 _Really, Severus thought. Apparently ruining my life some more weasel, can't you tell?_

 _"_ _Doing what? DOING WHAT?" That was it, she snapped._

 _Opening his eyes once more, Severus Snape witnessed the young Hermione Granger stand at attention, completely turning her back to the dying, yet reviving man behind her. She took three dangerous steps towards the red head, with very clear intent. The red head seemed unknowledgeable of her intent, but he could see quite clearly, she was going to win this battle in no time._

 _She stood just inches from his face and whispered very clearly to him. "You saw the same thing I did. Ronald Weasley are you still so brash and stubborn that you will not accept what we all KNOW to be truth? You astound me! I am here trying to save the man who IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE LIFE OF YOUR BEST FRIEND YOU GIT! You may have written him off, but I will not. He deserves it. Without him, we would be nowhere. I would probably be dead, and you would be slaved by that evil man who took over all of our lives, if not dead yourself. Now either stop bickering and let me do my job or get out of my way and be gone with yourself!"_

 _He deserves it? He was responsible for the life of Harry Potter? Did that mean that Voldemort was, indeed, slain? Did they win? Had he succeeded? Wait…he deserved it? That little twit. Although he was happy and at ease that he finally fulfilled his life-long vow to his long lost love Lily to protect her son, he could not be in more disdain of the woman. He was so close to having her, finally. What did she mean "let me do my job?"_

 _"_ _Let me do my job? Since when was Snape your job Hermione? What is it that I don't know about huh? You two shaking up while I was busy fighting for my family?"_

 _WHAT?! His mind exploded. He could not believe his ears. If he had the strength, that poor excuse for a wizard would have been shot across the pathetic shack. Apparently, Hermione had the same idea._

 _"_ _GET OUT! GET OUT NOW! I SWEAR TO ALL THAT IS RIGHT IN THE WORLD GET OUT NOW RONALD WEASLEY OR YOU WILL FOREVER REGRET IT!" With that she raised her wand, intent finally drawing on the young wizard. With his face matching his hair, his fists balled at his sides, and his wand utterly forgotten under his robes, he turned and stormed away. The witch before him huffed and stared after the boy._

 _"_ _AHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGG" She screamed a loud, dangerous, war cry and threw her hands in her hair. Yelling so hard she bent her body in half, her knees coming to touch her stomach while she allowed herself to fall just ever so slightly._

 _She stayed like that for a minute. Severus let the scene sink in completely. What had he just witnessed? Forgetting about the two young twits, he closed his eyes one last time and willed his death once more. If this is what he had to look forward to in the "happier, safer future" he wanted to opt out! His hope was quickly dashed as he heard her shuffle._

 _Sighing vastly, giving up hope, he opened his eyes. This time, she was looking at him. "Oh my worlds! I did it! You're back!" She exclaimed, way too happy to see the begrudgingly disappointed and widely despised professor. She quickly shuffled through the bag, finally finding what she had tried to before. She pulled out a small vile and placed it in the face of the older wizard. "Drink this, it'll help."_

 _If looks could kill, Hermione would be gone. The audacity for her to demand he drink something! How dare she be so bold! Not backing down, however, she pressed! "I don't care what you have to say, or think, just do it. You are not strong enough yet. I have only managed to stop the bleeding and pull the venom out. You still have vast damage through your nervous system, and I am almost positive you still cannot speak. This will help with that."_

 _Snape jolted slightly. What did she just say? He opened his mouth, and sadly, found she was right. Not allowing him another moment to hold her back, she used her advantage over his weakened state to press the potion to his lips. Was that an anti-paralysis potion he smelt? Not really giving him a choice, she poured it down his throat. He did not even respond to swallow it, the potion just slid down._

 _Almost in seconds, his body released. He let out a deep breath…Had he been holding it that whole time? What happened? Seeing the look of temporary confusion in his eyes she quickly opened her mouth. "It was an anti-paralysis potion. A less thoughtful witch would have used a simple ailment for a sore throat, but upon the distilment of Nagini's venom, I noticed its extreme potency and realized you were very well paralyzed. I am sure your throat and neck will burn for quite some time, but you will be able to use your voice now. I am unsure of the lasting effects it will have on the remainder of your body, but I only just began to heal you."_

 _He took a second to swallow. My, did that hurt! He also found the strength to move his arm and left leg a little. He looked up again, seeing her distracted looking for something else in the bag. It had obviously been enchanted to allow more storage within the minuscule fabric. She was mumbling to herself, fussing over what to do next. For him. To heal him._

 _She's the reason he was here. She was the reason he was no longer with his Lily. HIS LILY. Finally, he jumped at that. Using the full extent of his rage, he forced his body up. She caught him moving in the corner of her eye and jumped up immediately. "You stop moving right now! You need rest! You are not ready for movement yet. I still have some things to analyze and treat. You took quite a spill Professor."_

 _"_ _I DID NOT ASK YOU TO SAVE ME!" He bellowed, much too loudly. Earning a strong grimace on his own face. Boy did that hurt! He didn't know which was worse. The initial pain of Nagini's bites, or the pain of fighting through the remaining symptoms._

 _She froze, stopping her trek towards him. He saw it flash in her eyes. Hurt, regret, fear. Good! She needed to fear him! He wanted her to fear him. "You should have never come back for me! The weasel was right! You need to learn better when to leave alone!"_

 _He stumbled pretty badly, falling back against the wall he had died against. She looked at him, taking a step almost towards him. Then he met her gaze with his. She froze immediately again. There it was again, pain. "Oh, what? Did the precious princess not think this one through? Did you once stop to think what I would have wanted? This was about you, not me."_

 _She stepped back immediately! "Pro-Professor please…"_

 _"_ _If you have any want for your life, you will leave at once Mrs. Granger." With that he looked down at himself. Taking in the sight of his condition, his rage grew even further. "NOW!" With that, the girl ran, not looking back once. Leaving her bag behind her._

He jumped out of his chair! His feet falling off the bed and slamming to the ground. His head pounding! His dream. His memory. The pain. That was the last time he had seen the witch. He was happy about that for the longest time. Until recently.

It took him almost three hours to pull himself together after that moment, thinking back. He had found himself drowning in his sorrows. The first time since he lost his Lily. It was like losing her all over again! He had truly hated the witch in that time. After hours of self-loathing, hatred for the innocent girl, and the truth of his world crashing on him, he finished healing himself. He looked over and saw the girl's purse. Angrily, he picked it up and tossed it into the inside pocket of his robes. His robes, by chance, needed a lot of fixing up themselves, so he tended to that prior to forcing himself to leave the shack.

He was determined to find that witch. He would make her pay for this. He wanted to throw her purse at her and watch her world disappear before his eyes. Watch the pain appear again in those large golden-brown eyes once more. He wanted to see her hollow out the way she had hollowed him, again. He had much intention behind his actions, and nothing was going to stop him!

Nothing except the sight that bestowed him once he hit what was left of Hogwarts. He found it easy to enter the castle, being that the entire front had been demolished. Walking over bodies, crumbled stone and rock, and precariously under a fallen giant, he entered the Great Hall. He froze immediately. There had been more dead bodies than living. He heard screams, cries, utter breaking of wizards and witches alike. His eyes scanned the scene in front of him.

Piles and rows of deceased children and adults alike were laid out on the floor. Some had bodies slumped over them, grieving their loss, others were sadly abandoned, their loved ones probably claimed along with them. He noticed a flock of Ravenclaw's huddled around a young girl, she had to have been a first year. How had she gotten brought into battle? She was too young!

Slowly walking further in the room he saw Filtch sweeping up rubble, desperately attempting to find something to assist his mind. The man did have a strong disdain for wizards, and muggles alike, yet even this was too much for the crotchety old man. He looked up to see the former Headmaster walking in and stopped for a second. What was it he saw in his eyes? Fear? Hatred? Blame? He did not get a chance to analyze it, for a second later, the man continued his work, acting like it was just another day in the castle surrounding him.

He continued his walk. About half way through he found the piling bodies of the adults. He was taken by surprise to see both the Lupin's laying lifeless. Their son would be raised by others. _Oh joy, another Potter story, another Neville to be raised_ he thought. It was then he saw it. A throng of redheads, the sound of despair reasonably louder than the rest. One of the older redheads lay on the floor. He could not tell who it was considering the amount of live body's circling him.

"SNAPE!" A student yelled.

Instantly there were wands everywhere on him. All of the Weasley's turned instantly. It was one of the twins, he noticed. Just a second later, the remaining twin threw himself towards the black haired wizard. He had no strength the dodge the attack, but he did not have to.

The small body of Harry Potter lunged between the two, and toppled on top of the twin.

"HARRY!" The little Weaslette screamed.

"NO! This man is the reason we are here!"

"WE KNOW!" Grabbled the twin, wrestling easily out from under the skinny boy.

"You don't get it! He saved me!" With that, everyone stopped. "He offered his life to save me. He gave me his thoughts. It has been years since this man's allegiance has been questioned. I for one was leader of that group for a long time." He said, sighing, looking back to the older man behind him. He lowered his head, looking at his feet, yet not moving from between the angry family and his former Professor. "You don't have to trust him, but trust me!"

Everyone thought for a moment. Severus looked around the room to see a confliction of faces before him. Some still had hardened expressions, while others let it go at that, turning to pay their attention to more important matters such as their lost ones or their own wounds. The last group to falter were the red heads before him. "Give it up Potter." Snape drawled. "I do not need your defending." He stated, and went to turn away. He knew they never would believe him. Proof of memories or not. He was a lost cause. He wanted to be a lost cause. Just before he left, he saw the fall of the twin once more. He crashed to the ground in an utter display of pain and grief again, slowly turning his body to cover that of his lost twin once more.

With that Harry sobered, but still turned to look at Snape. "Please, stay. We all hurt. We can help you," he added, witnessing the man's stumble.

"You've done enough, thank you." He spat back at the boy. He may have been cleared, but he did not ask for any of this. He did not want any of this. Suddenly, his lust for revenge on the curly hair witch was lost, now all he wanted to do was disappear, forever. With that he turned and left the castle, the clutch still in his robes.

Shaking his head to clear his mind from his memories, Severus Snape focused his attention to the witch he had been thinking back to. When had been the last thought of that witch? Had he once trailed thoughts to her whereabouts after that day? Had he ever attempted to return her purse? Had he ever attempted to apologize?

He knew that last answer was a clear no. He still dreamt of his lost Lily almost every night, but he had accepted the young girl did what was natural. After a year of brooding over it, he finally came to the conclusion he would have done the same if he had witnessed her lying there. Or the Potter boy. He even trailed thoughts of if he would have saved the youngest Weasley boy, but he never decided on that one.

Where had she disappeared to after the war? Better yet, why had no one found her before now?

Finally peeling himself out of the now uncomfortable chair, he allowed himself a break to relieve himself, refresh his stomach's contents, and back to caring over the girl he went. He ran a few diagnostics on her again. Checking the time on his wall clock in the kitchen, it was well over due. He had been asleep only three hours, but for the young girl, three hours could make or break her. He was going to have to pay more attention to himself, he thought, if he was going to ever achieve her reawakening.

He found the amount of sepsis in her body had diminished. The chest area having only a yellow glow, with the stomach and personal areas filling an orange atmospheric response. He followed with more treatments and an additional numbing potion. Thinking clearly this time he added an invigoration draught to assist her body's healing process. He was sure her body was exhausted from fighting the sepsis and pain for so long. Thinking more into it, he added a calming draught and a dreamless sleep potion to ensure the extra energy did not wake her early. Her body needed rest, vastly, and he was not prepared for her to awaken until she had healed enough to answer his ever growing questions.

Knowing that her wounds her well healed, he lathered some murtlap essence on the deeper wounds, just to ensure a painless recovery. Why he was going through such trouble, he did not know. He did owe her his life, but still, this was a far fetch for the man he was. He finished with a bottle of light purple liquid he had invented himself. It was a potion that held the vital essence and vitamins necessary for livelihood in it. Basically, it was his wizard's version of creating a full stomach.

His mother was once admitted to the muggle hospital when he was a child, due to his father's rage. She had ended up on a feeding tube that was meant to be temporary. She had never gotten rid of that contraption. He never forgave himself for allowing that to happen, although he was just an eight-year-old boy. Vowing to never see that happen again, he created this potion. It was a meal in a bottle. Giving himself too much credit, it was a protein drink with an extra kick, he just liked it because it was his.

He always found himself trusting his work rather than others. He allowed himself one last look over the girl before retiring for a shower. It had finally grown dark outside, and after the day he had, he just wanted to sleep. Getting out of the shower, messily towel drying his hair and tossing on a pair of black pajama bottoms, he forwent a small dinner, and allowed himself to settle back down in his transfigured chair.

On a normal day he would have taken the time to expand his sleeping quarters, or at least made the chair a little longer, maybe into a chase lounge, or at least added addition comfort with fluffier pillows, but tonight, he didn't care. Ensuring the witch was sufficiently covered by his blankets, and conjuring up a blanket for himself he rested back asking for another two hours of sleep. He had set an alarm for himself to wake up and attend the young witch, for he knew she would need an additional round of antibiotics, and sadly a few more sets of blood-replenishing potions and the antidote to the sepsis in her body.

Huffing dramatically, he laid his head back more comfortably. This was going to be a long process!


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four:

He was, in fact, correct when he came to the conclusion it would be a long process. It had been three days since he had brought the young and battered girl to his home, and he was finally making way with treatments. Throughout the days he had minimized his over use of spells, and began to tediously attack one portion of her body at a time.

First he began with her head. He focused very intently one her mind. Not using Legilimency to actually enter her mind, however he used diagnostic and probing spells to view the anatomy of his patient's brain. He found a few brain bleeds and swelling, but found them in enough time. Focusing almost an entire day protecting and rebuilding her brain, he found himself both physically and magically exhausted.

The next day went much smoother, though. This he was very thankful for. He did indeed begin his day double checking on her brain functions, but finding no change since the night before, which was a great sign actually, he moved on. He began to meticulously apply healing and concealment charms on each individual scar and scrape on her body. Knowing this was not at first essential, but necessary for the poor girl's mind sake, he chose today to begin the tedious task.

He was not sure when the last time the girl had seen herself, but she looked almost comparable to someone caught in a fire. Every section of her body had indents, bumps, raised and bumpy skin, discolorations, everything. He was able to diminish the sight of all the minor cuts, and greatly improve the protrusion of most of her large scars. The only ones that made no change were the deepest, and longest battered portions of her body. Still, she looked much better.

He had scourgified the young witch daily, especially after treatments, and took great care to not dwell on her private areas, even though they needed quite a decent amount of work. Thinking of it as one scar at a time, he zoned in on an inch by inch basis of skin, rather than a section of body part. He thought it was the best way to provide some semblance of privacy for the witch.

He had stopped to eat lunch, the first time in the last three days, and dwelled over the witch's condition. Finally finding the time to think about something other than her immediate health issues, he thought into the girl's story. Where had she gone? How long had it been since she was last seen? Unable to shake his thoughts, he quickly finished his lunch, hopped in the shower, and readied himself for a trek back to the castle.

Checking on her one last time, happy that his sleeping potions were working their magic, he concluded she would be well into sleep until the late night hours at least. With one last glance around his abode, he turned and disapparted on the spot.

He arrived just outside the Hogwarts wards, annoyed they had added such a larger boundary to the school's grounds. Before the war the shields came to an end just at the edge of the gates. Allowing no one access through the gates, yet access to them. Now, proving to be much ahead in her thinking, the new headmistress stretched the boundaries an extra half a mile past the gate lines. This allowed no one, wizard or muggle alike, the ability to even view the edge of the school's lines.

The potion's master stepped through the first round of wards, a layer that allowed only magical beings to cross through. Upon his entrance, a building, almost like a muggle toll booth popped up just ahead of him. He stepped up to it and place his hand above a black onyx stool, allowing it to read his magical make up. Accepting him as a welcome professor to the grounds immediately, it gave off a light green glow, disappearing right before his eyes. From there, a small, personal sized carriage appeared, apparently transfigured immediately from a nearby rock.

It was all the work of the new headmistress. _McGonagall and her transfigured toys_ he thought. Although it was a bit of an inconvenience, the professor could not fault her completely. It was pretty smart of her. Although the war was over, the death eater tolls still shunned the amount of those who declared themselves on the correct side of the war. There were not enough protections one could provide now-a-days.

Immediately after the war, the castle was attacked too many times to count by angry followers who were not ready to accept their leader's demise. Some even went brazen enough to try and curse the rebuilding of the castle. A whole new level of aurors was formed, their job solely to track down and apprehend the remaining death eaters, while the preexisting level of aurors were the ones in charge of tracking down all other dark magic.

This was made possible with the throng of students who felt the need to defend their lost loved ones from the war. All seventh years, whether they took their final year or not were allowed a pardon and full admittance to the wizarding world of jobs with open arms. Majority of them, to no surprise at all, headed straight for the walls of the ministry, rebuilding the inner workings of their government as well as creating the largest amount of auror applicants yet.

The new trainees were given the title of auror, trained, and sent off to find and diminish all random dark magic. Meanwhile, the veterans of the war, those aurors who remained from prior to the war, were automatically offered the promotion to the new extreme level of auror. The only exceptions were those who had been maimed, or changed by the war in too drastic of a way. These veterans were offered either another place in the ministry, or as a much needed trainer for the new recruits. Also, those who had survived of the Order were immediately accepted to the alight task force, including the brave young souls Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. George Weasley, and his brother Bill also joined the task force, finding they had no other way to cope with their loss of Fred.

A handful of the sixth years were offered pardon as well. The only students who were allowed to miss their 7th year, however, were those who were able to at least pass their NEWTS acceptably. For those who could not pass two or less classes of the NEWTS were allowed the chance to partake in summer courses for the option to take the exams again. If they passed at the close of summer, they were pardoned, if not, they were forced to attend their 7th year along with the others who had not passed three or more portions of the exam. To the surprise of the Headmistress, about half of the year was able to pass easily.

Snape ran these thoughts through his mind while he was carried to the gate of the school. When the gate opened, the carriage halted slowly, allowing the man to easily step off. He may have had a long way to heal after his attack from the snake that day, but he never missed a beat in his sulking. He still glided with ease across any flooring. Briskly walking towards the castle, he glanced once to the expanding cottage. Both the big oafs were outside it. Hagrid had been working hard, while his extra-large wife tidied up the garden. Now instead of food only, half of the garden had flowers and great plants growing.

Making his way to the castle, finally, he strode quickly to his dungeons. He knew exactly what he was looking for, and he was not willing to waste any more time from finding it. Arriving at his sealed door, opting away from a portrait who would just waste his days with talking, he did the enchantment and unlocked his door. As the room had come accustomed to his presence over the last year, a domino effect of lights came inflamed across the walls of his room, lighting a perfect path to his desk.

He strode straight to his desk, turned to the left of his desk, and withdrew the large stack of newspapers he had accumulated. After the final paper appeared on his desk, he took a seat in his large backed chair and settled in for a long day of reading. He had kept every single, notary worth newspaper since the demise of the great dark lord. He never knew what information may be necessary later on, and he silently thanked that random urge to hoard the papers.

Now, he truly had that one reason for keeping them. Something to find, Mrs. Granger's back story. He began his search at the beginning, the end of the war. The front page held numerous photos of the demolished castle and those who were wounded. The entire next day's paper after the war was solely on Hogwarts, to be certain. Every page inside the paper held pictures of each and every lost witch and wizard, giant, friend, foe, house elf, even slain protectors for the great castle itself, such as the gnomes, knights, and even gargoyles.

He paid close attention to every word, and picture alike. He was sure the heroine would have been found for an interview, but he was not taking the chance to miss her in the background of a photo either. To his sudden surprise, and utter dislike, not one single mention of the young girl was in the entire paper. No photo, no interview, not even a word of her heroic acts. Flustered, he immediately grabbed the next paper.

After four days in a row of finding no mention of the young girl, he put the papers down. How had no one thought to find the witch after four days? Going over the interviews of those who had spoken to the paper, he hoped to find something he missed. Harry's interview, was of course found splotched and pasted all over the papers. He noted acts of bravery, of heartache, the actions of everyone around him, but nothing specific about the young witch.

Had no one really thought of her? He continued his search. The Weasley's were everywhere. From the interview, to funeral, to ads about the Wizard shop being sold off to a former classmate of the twins, to the acceptance into the auror program. Little clips here and there of the victims, the court proceedings and trails of those who had been caught already.

Months past the end of the war and he still did not find her. He found the articles about the castle's rebuilding. The new Minister of Magic being Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Headmistress being Professor McGonagall, their interviews. He even found the interview of himself. How he had lived through his last moments against the dark lord, how he was tried and cleared, how he got his position back as Potion's Master. Had he really disliked the young girl that much to not state anything about her? He could not recall for sure what he had stated, but he didn't put him past it to ignore the girl so close to the heartbreak of living another day back then.

Feeling completely exasperated and like he was hitting a dead end, he glanced up at the grandfather clock he had in the corner of his study. Realizing he had spent way longer than anticipated, the clock stating 22:30, he resigned to packing up and heading home. He wasn't worried that the young ex-Gryffindor would be awake, but he still did not wish to push it any later. Tossing the papers in a pile, shrinking them, and placing them in his inner pocket, he went on his way.

Arriving with a small pop in his kitchen he emptied his pockets and resized the papers to fill the mini kitchen table. Not feeling up to looking at them any second longer he turned and headed for the bedroom. Finding his estimations were correct, the young witch was expected to sleep easily into the night. He had debated on inducing another sleep for her, but with a clear green light finally showing over her entire body, he thought naught. He chose to take his chances and simply hoped the girl would sleep into the morning.

Not feeling too picky, he simply peeled off his robes, stripped from the waist up, and thinking ahead this time he transformed his little chair into a well sized chase lounge. Stretching out he laid back, prepared for a much needed full night's rest. Little did he know, the little Gryffindor next to him would, in fact, not be sleeping until morning…

Hermione had begun to wake up. She felt the pressure of the warm blanket atop her, the feel of the silk sheets and pillow under her and mentally slapped herself. Whose bed was she in now? Wracking her brain trying to place her last memory in a sad attempt to prepare herself she could not settle on anyone. As she continued to wake her other senses began to start working for her. _The smell_ she thought. This was a new smell. She could instantly tell she was not at the Carrows, and she could also easily rule out the male Lestrange, it was way to clean of a smell for them.

Not able to pang the exact scent she gave in. Maybe it was a new client? Had she pissed off her last owner that much? Wait, who had her last? _UGH!_ She mentally screamed. Curse her failing mind. She was worth nothing anymore.

Waiting for the remainder of her body to catch up with her awakening mind she prepared herself for the pain to come. Yet, pain did not arrive. Why was there no pain? Did she finally die? She could not have been that lucky! Allowing herself to fall into those types of thoughts, she began to move and wrestle her fingers and toes around a little bit. No, there definitely was no pain. _Yes!_ She thought, her prayers had finally been answered.

Feeling calm and rejoice fall upon her, she reached for what she hoped would be a heavenly light. Then, a sound caught her attention. _What was that?_ Concentrating on the sound, rather than feeling for once, she zoned solely on the source of her pause. _There it was again_ …Breathing, light snoring. _NO!_ She was not alone.

Squeezing her eyes shut one last time to regain the last of her resign, she opened her eyes slowly. It was extremely dark. Waiting for her eyes to adjust, she stayed staring straight ahead. After a few moments she could just begin to make out the outlines of shapes, she concluded she was indeed in a bedroom. A 4 post canopy hung above her. _Well that nixed out a handful of possibilities._ It had been months since she had been in a decent room like this one. Or was it years? She had no true idea, but it had been a while.

Her most recent experiences proved to be less "formal," if you could even call it that in the first place. Allowing her eyes to roam the darkened room, but smart enough to not move in fear of beginning the next round of abuse once the person awoke, she focused on a wardrobe that seemed to be covered in bottles, bowls, and was that a towel or two? She wasn't sure, but she knew one thing, _this man is messy_.

Not sure how long she had waited, she began to time the breathing of the snoring on the right side of her. She dubbed it was absolutely male. It may not have been the loudest snoring she had come across, but it was a deep, throaty growl that could only belong to a fully grown man. That was good at least. In her experience, the older the man, the less abusive they were. It was the anger, rage, and angst of the younger generation that she had grown to fear.

Knowing she could freely turn her head while a snore was taking place, she began to slowly turn in the direction of the sound. If the person was one of her heavy sleepers, she may even find herself a bite to eat. A run to the bathroom. _An escape maybe_? Yeah right. Turning her head fully to the right finally, she waited for her eyes to adjust. She was surprised to find the man was not next to her, but in a couch next to the bed.

 _That was new! Maybe that's why she didn't hurt? Had she found someone that actually took ease? Or had he just fallen asleep before he had his way with her?_ Focusing harder on the shape of the man on the couch she saw he wasn't wearing the normal wizard's robes. _That's odd._ So again, a plus. She stared at what she assumed to be his face, and saw it was at an odd angle. His head seemed to be draped over the back of the head rest. Was that long hair she saw?

Attempting to get a better look, she tried turning her body to match her head. _Bad idea!_ The man must have heard her because the light instantly turned on, and when she was able to refocus her eyes, she laid eyes upon the darkest, deepest pair of eyes she had seen yet.

Severus Snape matched eyes with Hermione Granger! Without notice, she began to cry.

 **Author's Note:**

She's finally awake! I had so many different ideas and versions of these first few chapters. I hope I did it justice. I am excited to show you the way they interact after her waking. Please review!


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